


Mother Weep, the Years We're Missing

by LuuuCifer



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:46:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22022020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuuuCifer/pseuds/LuuuCifer
Summary: Daryl's frustration with Carol's tunnel vision vendetta against Alpha and the Whispers comes to a head after a tragedy he feels could have been avoided.Takes place after the(assumed) events of S10E9.warning for mention of major character death
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Carol Peletier
Comments: 6
Kudos: 60





	Mother Weep, the Years We're Missing

He'd heard a door slam upstairs. It wasn't directly above him, but higher aloft in the house, floors above. It was the attic door. Her bedroom door. Faint, quick footfalls descended flights, growing more recognizable as she moved. He regarded the ceiling for a moment before RJ moved slightly under his arm, drawing attention back to the small form tucked against him. 

The kid had been playing with some of the neighbors when they'd gotten back and he'd immediately run to his Aunt and Uncle when he noticed them come through the gates. Carol had brushed past the boy. Daryl saw the kid's expression drop a bit as he watched Carol, obviously upset, blow by with no acknowledgement, but RJ, resilient as his mother and deters as his father, simply turned back towards Daryl and rushed forward with the same amount of gusto he'd offered to his Aunt Carol. Daryl gave the kid a sad smile and stopped to scoop the little guy up.

"Grown up stuff?", RJ asked knowingly. Intuition was an inherited trait, apparently. The kid could suss out a situation or a person just as well as his big sister or his parents. Daryl clapped him on the back softly as he trailed behind Carol. 

"Yeah, bud. Grown up stuff", he croaked. 

He hadn't left his side since, opting to talk his uncle's ear off a bit, and eventually follow Daryl downs the stairs to his room where he'd passed out on his couch between Daryl and Dog, who'd been equally happy to see him return. Michonne and Judith were still off at Oceanside. Who knew when they'd be back? Understandably, the kid was feeling lonely, if not a bit neglected. So Daryl, despite his physical, mental, and emotional exhaustion, was more than happy to offer the kid some company and a sense of security, fleeting as it currently was. 

Carol's movements about the house now, however, reminded him he had some things that needed addressed. And judging by the rushed pace at which she was descending the stairs, he'd better do it quickly, as even the events of the last few days hadn't brought Carol's mind back around to reality. He'd tried playing it her way, he made excuses, tried being supportive, tried including her despite his gut feelings. But as much as he loved her, he needed to confront her, once and for all, about how reckless she'd been since she'd come back from the sea.

RJ grunted sleepily as Daryl lifted him enough to remove himself from underneath the tired six year old. He gently rushed to place him back against the couch and drew a crocheted blanket over him. Dog stirred a bit and attempted to follow Daryl upstairs, but Daryl snapped his fingers quietly into a point and mouthed a big, "STAY" before rushing out of the room.

He reached the top of the stairs and rounded the banister just in time to see her back disappear as she crossed from the hall into the dining room. She'd changed her clothes, he'd noted, and she had her pack and quiver slung across her shoulder. He knew what she was doing. She was heading into the kitchen to hastily shove some light provisions into her bag. She was gonna run off again. The thought made anything he had been mulling over on the long trek back from that cave, that may have softened a bit after spending some time with the kid, boil back to the surface like someone had cranked a stove burner to HIGH. He followed, not even trying to hide that he was right behind her. His steps slowed as he reached the kitchen and leaned an arm against the wall, watching her as she pulled open a few cabinets. He stood there for a moment in silence, watching her rifle through a box of homemade granola bars. Was she just gonna ignore him? He was about to open his mouth when she closed the cabinet door and caught him in her periphery, startling.

"Dammit, Daryl" she gasped, form barely catching faint moonlight pouring in through the window above the sink. She closed her red rimmed eyes, relieved the shadowy form belonged to him and not some faceless boogeyman. He scoffed, derisively, finding it impossible to hide his tone in such a small noise.

"Yer head's so far up yer own ass that you can't even tell if somebody's right behind you anymore", he bit out pushing off the wall. Her tired eyes narrowed at him and her lips parted, but words didn't come right away. 

"Don't talk to me like that" she snarled, weakly, her voice thick with betrayal and what Daryl recognized to be recently shed tears that were threatening to spill over her weak dam again. His chest clenched a bit, part of him regretting how furious he was with her, but he found himself coming back at her all the same and taking a big step forward.

"How am I 'sposed to talk to you anymore? You don't listen to a damn thing I gotta say," he countered resolutely. He watched her consider him for a moment before she feigned steel and gathered up her bag, making her way around the large kitchen island to head for the other way out of the room.

"I don't have time for this," She ground, disappearing around the corner. A quiet growl of frustration left his chest as he turned on his heel to cross back through the dining and living room. He wasn't going to let her off the hook that easily. He found himself in the middle of the hall again, this time between Carol and the door. She stilled, exasperated, a few paces left between them. 

"I don't have time for this," she repeated insistently, "She could be rounding up that herd and marching it this way right now. I've got to-"

"You gotta what?!" he snapped, pacing now, all but daring her to come up with a real answer but somehow still managing to take care enough to keep his voice lowered so as not to disturb RJ, sleeping just feet away. "You gotta go back out there with no plan, so angry you can't even see straight, and take down thousands of Walkers by yerself, draggin' everyone that cares about you through Hell and back for nothin'?! Jerry's dead, Carol!", hissed words tore up Daryl's throat and past his lips. He watched the air leave her lungs and the color drain from her face before he took a step forward.

"Who else needs to die 'fore you get this revenge shit out yer system?" He paused for a beat having unintentionally knocked the wind out of his own sails, and her tearful eyes flicked back and forth around the room, searching a way to escape the situation, finally locking back on his own eyes as they began to sting. "You still got people here... I'M right here."

The house fell quiet except for the ticking of a clock somewhere behind her. He watched her for a moment, unsure if she was just going to blow past him, open the door and leave, or if she was going to vomit right there on the rug. The meager light caught the tears in her eyes before she dropped her gaze to her boots, let out a pained pant, and grew unsteady on her feet. Regret consumed him. It was like watching her lose Sophia or Henry all over again. Daryl found himself rushing forward, fearing she may actually faint. Upon reaching her, she weakly backed herself against the wall. He was all but holding her up.

"Hey. Hey." He called softly to her as she allowed her knees to buckle and she slid down the wall, coming to rest on the floor. Feebly, she pushed against his soft grip on her arms, beginning to sob, full bore now. Daryl felt nauseated. As livid as he was, he'd not expected this outcome. Some tears, maybe, considering the conversation they'd had in the forest the other night, but not this. He knew she'd been in a fragile state lately, and now he feared he'd been the straw to break the camel's back. He was almost afraid to keep touching her, like if he did, she'd lash out or just evaporate into the ether. He found himself overcome as well, now, crying in earnest.

"You never came back," he sniffed, repeating the point he'd made to her the other night before they'd fallen into the cave, "After Henry... You just... You weren't there anymore. You told me, night of the storm, at The Sanctuary- Told me you were losing yerself. I didn't get it." 

"I'm sorry," she croaked, "I'm so sorry. I just, I need to do this. I need her dead." 

She repeated herself, barely audible, even to Daryl in their close proximity. Daryl found himself at a loss. He knew she was sorry. He knew she was in pain. But he struggled for a way to get her to understand how badly she needed to stop running from everything, including him. 

"You gotta tell me. Just tell me," he pleaded. He wanted to help. Desperately. But her walls were up, or she just couldn't bring herself to open up in her current state. Whatever it was, this wasn't working.

She shook her head and shrugged, unable to meet his gaze as she continued to gasp between sobs. Feeling defeated, Daryl pulled himself back, allowing her a bit of space for a moment. He swiped at the moisture in his eyes and on his cheeks, before exhaling and pushing himself up off the floor to his feet. He wiped at his nose with the back of his arm like a child, and nervously shifted, foot to foot, before moving to pace across the hallway. He pushed some of the dark shag away from his face and exhale sharply. He could feel himself getting ready to say something, but he had no idea what was about to come bubbling up. He leaned against the wall opposite Carol, staring off at nothing in particular as he began gnawing at his chapped cuticles. 

"Amy," he offered after a long minute, "Andrea, Dale, Glenn, T, Shane... Lori, Carl..."

He paused, looking over to her. He had her attention now. She peered at him through puffy, wet eyes, not yet understanding where he was going with this list. He took another deep breath before continuing.

"Merle...Rick," he paused, almost choking sadly on the last two names before almost whispering the final. "Sophia."

He watched her draw in a sharp, shuddering breath at the last name and the reverence with which his voice carried it to her ears. He watched her wipe desperately at her face, attempting to swallow some of the cries that were still managing to make their way from her chest.

"You ever notice we're all that's left from Atlanta?" He queried, somberly. He waited for her small nod before continuing, "We lost all'a them. And then some."

She stilled a bit, continuing to whimper between deliberate but ragged breaths, but there was also a renewed, deeper sadness in her eyes at the mention of their friends and loved ones that had been lost to this new world. 

"You uh," he began nervously, terrified that he finally knew where he was going with this, "You 'member that day... That mornin', right after we found out Otis been keepin' Walkers in the barn? When we was in the stable?" 

He looked to her. She was listening intently now. She blinked away another tear and nodded again, this time more noticeable than the last. 

"Yeah," her small voice rose from her. He breathed out a small laugh, the memory fresh in his mind now, a bit taken aback that her voice trembled the same way it did that day. He nodded to himself a bit, as if to reassure himself before pressing on.

"You 'member what you said to me?" he asked. It was his turn for his voice to turn inward, becoming small and a bit unsteady. He waited for a beat. Carol pressed her lips into a thin crease and took a big breath.

"Well," her voice still quiet and thick with emotion, "I remember YOU calling me a bitch."

A heavy pause came before they both found themselves chuckling at the memory. Ever the one to take advantage of an opportunity to find humor, especially when it came at his expense, Carol's lighthearted jab found its mark as easily as she'd aimed an arrow at a large, broad target. 

"Yea," he snorted, " I got a real way with words, huh? "

He watched her genuine smile light her expression a bit, staring in amazement at the resilience she had in her soul and the beauty of her features. He could feel his stomach on the edge of flipping and a nervous electricity radiating down each arm to his fingers. As the light moment ebbed away he found himself dragging his own mind back to the point he was trying to make. The admission he needed her to hear. He cleared his throat as he watched her soft smirk fade.

"You said to me, that day... You go, 'I can't lose you, too.'" 

His voice, despite catching again on the last word, had an air of finality to it. But it was Carol's turn to study his face. She found it immediately, whatever emotion he had buried there, as she always did with him, and zeroed in on it. Daryl felt like an ant under the laser focus of a magnifying glass at high noon. And despite himself, he could feel the water start to build behind his eyes again and felt himself almost turning in onto himself and becoming smaller. He pressed on, however. 

"If somethin' ever were to happen to you, Carol... If you- If you died... I wouldn't be far behind," he sniffed. He watched her swallow hard as another tear tumbled over her lower lashes. 

"Know why I acted the way I did? Callin' you that, throwin' a fit? I was scared," He paused again, half in an attempt to stop his gravelly voice from trembling, half waiting for her to either acknowledge him or run for the door, mortification pushing her to flee more now than revenge... He wasn't sure what. His mind was like a runaway train. Her tearful doe eyes still trained on him, he sucked in a shakey breath and cleared his throat.

"I was scared cuz I loved you. I've always loved you. An' I'm scared as hell, again, that I'm gonna lose you." He shook his head for emphasis, his voice finally breaking. He sucked in a breath and blew it out in an attempt to contain his emotions. She was crying again, too, but now he was unsure of the the reason. A tense, tearful silence slipped back over the room. He felt hopeless and embarrassed. He felt a sudden need to escape. He pushed off the wall, intent on making his way back down the basement stairs to his bedroom. 

"Please don't leave again, tonight. You're gonna upset the kid." He sniffed as he took the first few steps down. 

"Daryl," she called weakly from behind him, still in her spot on the floor. He paused, hand on the banister, without turning to face her. He heard her move, rising up off the floor so he turned to meet her eyes again.

"I've been having dreams." She offered, hesitantly. She fidgited with her fingerless gloves, looking almost ashamed. Scared. It tugged at Daryl's chest. He knew she'd been miserable and the lack of sleep had been contributing to her rash and heedless state of mind.

"I know you ain't been sleepin','" he acknowledged sadly. She shook her head a bit before continuing.

"They're good dreams. With Henry. With you. And we're all together... A family." She exhaled on a sob, finally looking up, " She took that from me. "

Daryl found himself rushing back up the three or four stairs he'd descended, coming to a stop just before taking the last. He reached for her, drawing her into his chest and she clutched at him, almost desperately, burying her face into his neck. The muffled sounds of her grief caused his torso to hum in an unpleasant way. He found himself smoothing her soft, silver hair as her sobs rocked them both. 

"I miss him, Daryl. I miss Sophia."

" I know, " he sniffed, taken aback that she brought up her daughter's name so easily. It'd been years since he'd heard her speak her name. He brought his lips to her crown as he tucked a small stand of her hair behind her ear. He felt guilty. He wasn't sure how he should be comforting her. He didn't know what she needed right now or how to reconcile that against his own feelings. He worried that he wasn't being as emotionally available as she needed, while also worrying he was overstepping some unspoken boundaries, especially considering the long held secret he'd just revealed to her.

"We're still a family," he offered, a hopeful tone to his own sad words. He knew her son was gone. But they had other family. "Just....Stop running after Alpha. We'll find Lydia... We're still a family."

His mention of the girl prompted another small cry to rattle her form. She pulled her head from the crook of Daryl's neck, looking up at him with fearful, guilt ridden eyes.

"If something happens to her because of what I did, I'll never forgive myself. Alpha's gonna kill her if she finds her," she swallowed.

"She's a smart kid. She's gonna be just fine. We'll bring her home." He promised her with everything he had. He winced then at the echo of the promises he made her over a decade ago, suddenly fearful that he'd not be able to keep that promise to her, just like last time. As he peered into her eyes, he knew she'd picked it up. The wake up call brought her innate ability to read him like a book back, apparently. He knew she saw that he was terrified of failing her. Her eyes left his for a moment and she brought her hand up to his left brow, gently tucking his mess of dark, shaggy mane away from his face and then drawing her slim digits back across his cheek, traced the scar that marred his flesh. He watched her eyes trail the length of the mark and then dance to his lips and back to his eyes.

"I've always loved you, too, Daryl," her shaky breath confessed. He found himself nodding and grunting an acknowledgement, at a loss for and completely dumbfounded as to what else to do or say. His nervous habit earned a small, warm smile from Carol. Her hand pulled away from his cheek and found its way to the back of his neck and she wound her fingers into the gentle snarls there, while the other hand ensured its place at his chest, curling into the the lip of buttons that met in the center. With that, her blue eyes fluttered shut, and she closed the small gap between both of their slightly parted, anxious mouths. 

Daryl saw a starburst behind his own closed lids. It knocked him for a loop and he felt himself teeter, suddenly very acutely aware that he was still perched on the last step before the main floor. His lack of balance caused an inadvertent break in the brief kiss. Carol's eyes popped open in question and Daryl saw uncertainty flash in them. In one movement, he removed his left arm from around her shoulder and steadied himself against the wall, while his right arm dipped further around her waist. He climbed the final stair, stepping into another kiss and walking Carol backwards to more dependable footing.

The kiss started off timid, tentative, and sweet. He could feel the up turn of her lips against his, contrasting the still freshly fallen tears on her cheeks, and it urged him on. The kiss grew deeper and more hungry, ten years of pining and want urging him forward. She reciprocated with matched fervor, small keening sounds escaping her throat. The audible encouragement prompted him to tear his mouth away, working his hand into her hair enough to tip her head and allow him access to the silken skin hidden there. She hummed her approval as she clutched at his broad shoulder. 

He nipped and kissed, almost losing himself in her... Until he realized she no longer felt like she was melting into him. He suddenly felt her tap, quickly and gently at his shoulder. He stilled and pulled away, slowly. He was confused at the awkward smile on her face.

"Does this mean you guys are married now?", came a small voice from behind him. He spun around quickly, the lack of blood making its way to his brain and the motion enough to make his head spin. His eyes found RJ and Dog stood at the top of the stairs. The toddler's loose ringlets of dark hair flattened on one side, rubbing at his tired eyes. The sight of the boy and dog, who seemed to be panting in a mock laugh, and the question was enough to wrench a stifled laugh from Carol. Still a bit flustered and embarrassed, Daryl broke away from Carol to face the kid fully.

"Uh, hey man. We missed dinner, you hungry?" he asked, patting himself on the back in his head for dodging the kid's question so smartly. RJ stood, still rubbing at his face, and nodded. 

"Yea? Okay," Daryl said as he stopped forward to lift the child aloft. The kid perched upon his hip easily and tucked his tired head into his uncle's shoulder. RJ was getting too big to be toted around much by his mother anymore, but Daryl took every advantage he could to give the kid a lift while he still could. Knowing how quickly Carl had sprouted up from only a bit bigger than RJ was now, he figure he had maybe had a year before it would be utterly ridiculous to be carrying him around anymore. He'd indulge the kid and himself while he could. Daryl turned back to head into the kitchen through the hall and saw Carol removing her quiver and bag from where they sat on her back.

"You stayin'?" he asked, realizing the amount of concern and disbelief was in his voice a bit too late. She simply nodded to him, a sad half smile on her lips as she reached for RJ, gently and soothingly rubbing his back. Her eyes mourned her own children, but her smile told him she was eager to live by honoring their memory. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and kissed her temple before moving to usher them all into the kitchen, Dog trailing.

**Author's Note:**

> I write so infrequently that I doubt this will get many hits, he I'm thankful all the same. Comments, critiques, love, and hate all welcomed. Thanks so much for reading!


End file.
